The closing for our new home was last Friday, and it went off with nary a hitch. We were thrilled to finally walk through the (green) door of our new home and start bringing some of our things in and begin taking inventory on the things we would need right away. Meeting our new neighbors was a pleasure. They seem to be very friendly and helpful--the gentleman next door even offered to mow our lawn for us until we move down. We even had our first visitors. Husband Fixture's coworkers came by to see the house, and it turns out they know the neighbors behind us (who also works at HF's new workplace).
We thoroughly enjoyed our first night in our new home, and fell in love with the house all over again. I actually began to feel sad at the thought of returning to PA. Thankfully, we only have about six weeks until it's our permanent home.
In the meantime, we had a minor panic attack with our current home. The realtor called to tell us the inspector couldn't get into our house. Apparently, my mother-in-law left something in the house, and used the lock box to let herself in. She couldn't figure out how to put the keys back, but instead of asking the kids for help or calling for us, she just took them with her. Fortunately, the kids were careless and left one of the sliding glass doors on the deck unlocked, so the inspector was able to enter.
Another hitch in the giddy-up occurred on Tuesday afternoon. I got an email from our realtor confirming an appointment for the appraisal Wednesday, about which I'd received no prior notice. Of course, I was scheduled to work Wednesday, so we had to scramble to get the house ready.. Naturally, we still haven't heard squat about how the inspection or appraisal actually went. I suppose if we have to have a sucky realtor, at least it's on the selling end of things. . .